


Leaving Ruin in His Wake

by HeadmasterFelix



Series: All's Fair [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Sam, Bisexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluid Sexuality, Hand Jobs, Heartbreak, Light Dom/sub, Love, M/M, Many Kinks, Moose, Moosley, Multi, Pet Names, Questioning Dean, Romance, Sequel, Talking During Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After several sexual encounters with Sam, and a threesome with Castiel, Crowley starts to understand that things between himself and the Winchester aren't purely physical. He can't handle it, and makes some very poor decisions. Meanwhile, with Sam's encouragement, Castiel confesses his feelings to Dean.</p><p>A sequel to Speak of the Devil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel cleaned up the living room, starting with his tie and then putting away the wine Sam had left out and the absinthe Crowley had brought to share. Crowley had done things to him, psychologically, that he hadn’t at all been prepared for, and he opted to avoid going back into Sam’s room. Instead he busied himself with dishes and dusting until he heard Dean stumbling in.

“Woah, place looks nice,” Dean remarked. He sounded fairly sober.

Castiel looked at the clock on the wall and furrowed his brow. “You’re home early. Did the date not go well?”

He shrugged and went to the fridge, “Nah, it was fine. Just, uh, I dunno. Didn’t feel like banging her. I must be gettin’ old. Hey, what’s this wine doing here?” he pulled out and cracked a beer.

“It’s Sam’s. And I doubt not wanting to fornicate with near-strangers is indicative of aging.”

“Ugh, Cas, you have _got_ to stop using that word. Where is Sam, anyway?”

Castiel hesitated just a moment too long as he chose the selective truth. “He’s in his room. He went to sleep early tonight.”

“He… had a quarter of a bottle of wine and went to bed early?”

“More or less, yes.”

“More or less?” Dean stepped closer to Cas. “What’s the more part?”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably.

“Cas?” he was expectant.

“He had company tonight.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “You mean, other than you?”

“Yes.”

He paused a moment, thinking. “Like, sexy company?”

“Yes, ‘sexy company’, Dean.” He used air quotes.

Dean looked proud, and then concerned, and then forced-neutral. “Girl sexy company or boy sexy company?”

“Does it matter?” Castiel was a little frustrated.

“No, no, nah, course not,” but it kind of did.

“He had sex with men tonight. I really don’t see how it matters, though.”

“Wait, _men_? Like, plural?”

Castiel was suddenly very aware of having said too much. “Uh…”

“Holy- Like how many men?”

He sighed. “Dean, you realize none of this is your business, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but… I just, I gotta know, man. Like, we talking full blown orgy here? I know baby brother ain’t gettin’ more than me.”

“I’m not sure how you define orgy, but I would like to think it wasn’t one,” he honestly wasn’t sure how many people were required, but he hoped he hadn’t technically had an orgy with a demon.

“Like… four. More than three is an orgy.”

“Then no, it was not an orgy,” he was subtly relieved.

“Good, okay, I was gonna say, like, we can’t just be turning this into an orgy house.” He was just talking for the sake of talking now. He didn’t really want to think about any of it. “I’m, uh… thanks for the night out, Cas. I appreciate it. It was a good game. I think I’m gonna hit the shower.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Good night, Dean.”

“Night Cas,” he said as he made his way down the hall.


	2. Bad Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted  
> Did you have to ruin what was shiny? Now it's all rusted  
> Did you have to hit me where I'm weak? Baby, I couldn't breathe  
> And rub it in so deep, salt in the wound like you're laughing right at me

“Moose,” Crowley purred as he pulled away from Sam’s lips. Another night, another hotel, another very sticky Sam. They’d met like this several times in the last two weeks, and the frequency was increasing. Crowley couldn’t keep his mind off of Sam, and it was starting to scare him. He had decided that if at any point tonight he’d felt the urge to use the word ‘love’, he would end their affair. He wanted so badly to use it now, in the tired aftermath of their tryst.

“Mmm?” He cocked an eyebrow, mind still foggy.

“You know I lo-... adore our time together, truly,” he was leading to something.

Sam frowned. He didn’t like where this was going.

“But just to clarify, you know we aren’t exclusive, yeah?”

He laughed a little. “What, you mean outside of my extracurriculars with Cas? Yeah, no, obviously. Why would you even ask that?”

“Well, I was just pondering another venture and wanted to make sure there’d be no hard feelings.” It pained him to say, though he hid it well. He didn’t want another venture, not in the least. But getting attached to a Winchester like this was bound to be deadly.

Sam shrugged, “Honestly, I assumed you were in someone else’s bed basically every night.”

“Don’t I wish. Sadly, I’m far too busy. Most of my recreation time’s been going to you.” It really was. In fact, he’d been blowing off his duties more often than was responsible.  
“That’s… surprisingly flattering. So are you saying you want to stop… this?” he gestured between the two of them. Sam was already disappointed anticipating the answer.

“No, no, not entirely, at least. Just... cut back a bit.”

He shrugged again. He could live with that. “Sure. But, uh,” he knew he would regret asking, but had to anyway. “It sounds like you have someone in mind.”

“Eh… I might. Not sure they’re interested though, I’ll have to find out.” Despite it being mostly a lie, Crowley had to make sure Sam hated him enough to no longer be tempted by him. He was a master of emotional self-sabotage.

 

Something about the way Crowley spoke seemed evasive. Sam tried to puzzle it out before speaking again but had no luck. “Well, you’re pretty convincing when you want to be,” he hoped to get more from his tone.

“True.”

One word? That much opportunity to gloat or boast or segue into making out again and he goes with a single word? Something was very not right. Sam tried to sound nonchalant. “Anyone I know?”

“Nah, I highly doubt it,” he answered almost too quickly.

Sam felt concern sink into his gut. “I know a lot of people. Try me.”

Crowley was quiet for a bit, analyzing Sam and predicting outcomes of various phrasing. “Alright, Moose, since you’re apparently so curious,” and because I need you to know, was the part he did not say. “I’m considering testing the waters with Big Brother,” not ‘Dean’ or even ‘squirrel’. Crowley wanted to make this as inciteful as possible.

Sam stared, a dozen thoughts and feelings running through him. He sat up, then, with a demeanor so cool it made Crowley nervous, Sam responded. “No.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “No? What do you mean, no?” He was flattered, and amused, but buried all outward signs of that.

“I mean no, Crowley. You’re not going to fuck my brother.”

“I don’t recall asking you for permission, Sam.” Moose trying to possess him. Fuck, it was a turn on. But Crowley stayed on mission.

The use of his actual name stung harder than Sam would have anticipated. “I couldn’t care less what miscellaneous whores and demons you take to bed - I really couldn’t. But when it comes to people who matter, like my brother… no. You’re mine, and I’m not going to share you.”

Crowley furrowed his brow. This wasn’t kinky play time, Sam really was serious. “Yours? If anyone belongs to anyone here it-” he was cut off.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the property. Fine. We’re mutually owned, whatever. Point is, you’re not getting into bed with Dean.”

“I think that’s really up to him, love.”

Sam had almost forgotten what it sounded like to be called ‘love’ with such a facetious tone. It was salt in the wound created by the use of his real name. “Fine. You’re so dead set on it, then fucking fine. But we’re done. I’ve got a one Winchester policy. The second you try to pursue that, all of this is over. Permanently. Make your choice.”

He scoffed, “Permanently? I don’t think either of you boys know the meaning of the word. Let me tell you how this is going to go. I’m going to get Dean into bed with me whether you like it or not. We’re going to have an incredible time, and then I’m going to decide if it’s even worth coming back to you. If it is - and let’s be honest, it may not be, you always have been the less talented one - I will, and you’ll be grateful for the scraps off your brother’s plate just like you’ve always been.”

Sam stared in stunned, pained silence. “Get the fuck out, and don’t you dare fucking come near me or my brother.”

“Or you’ll what, pet?” Crowley challenged. He was actually defiant now. It was the only way to push out what felt like blades in his gut.

Sam had no response he thought he could actually follow through with.

“Yeah, thought so. I will be going now, but I’ll be seeing Dean real soon. Oh, and thanks for the good run. Why don’t you buy yourself something nice, like maybe a ride home,” and with that he was gone, leaving a stack of American bills in his wake. His goal was to make Sam feel like a whore, and it certainly worked.

Sam cradled his head in his palms, cursing himself for getting into this, telling himself that he had always known it would end poorly and how stupid he was for ever involving himself. Betrayal, fear, jealousy, and self-loathing swirled in him. After very many moments, it dawned on him that he was stranded in Minneapolis, six-hundred miles from home, with nothing but wallet, cellphone and clothes. He was going to have to either ask Cas to help him out, call Dean for a ride, or take the money from Crowley. Each option seemed worse than the last.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam finally pulled himself out of bed, resolved to ask Cas for help. First, though, he cleaned up the wrecked room and went to shower, trying to cover up what happened here. He knew it wouldn’t bother Cas, that wasn’t the point - he just couldn’t stand to wear the smell of Crowley back into the bunker. When he left here, he needed to leave him behind.

Once clean, Sam started to put his clothes back on. “Cas… I really… I could really use your help here. I know, typical, I fuck up and ask you to bail me out…”

Castiel was there before Sam could get his belt buckled. The pain on the Winchester’s soul was apparent, and Cas drew him into an embrace. They were quiet, and Sam focused on the sound of Castiel’s heartbeat.

“What happened?” he finally asked.

Sam pulled back slowly and grabbed his shirt, speaking while pulling it on. “I think… I think Crowley and I just broke up.”

He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t realize you were dating.”

“We weren’t! Just… whatever it is we were doing, we’re not doing it anymore.”

“I gather the decision was not reached amiably.”

“Yeah, that’s… that’s a nice way to put it.”

Cas nodded. “If I may… what made you decide to stop?”

Sam had to think about it for a minute, pinpointing the baseline cause. “I guess… it all cascaded when he told me he wanted to fuck Dean.”

“I see…” Castiel wasn’t saying something.

“I told him I wasn’t comfortable with that, and he sort of lost it.” Sam wasn’t the most reliable narrator.

They were quiet for another moment. Castiel still wasn’t saying something.

Sam cleared his throat and shrugged on his over shirt. “Any response?”

“I’m very sorry that happened. It seems to have hurt you a great deal.”

“It sucks, yeah. Mostly I’m just angry I let myself trust him like that. I guess I’m lucky this is the worst that’s come from it,” so far, anyway, but Sam wasn’t going to put that on Castiel’s shoulders yet.

“So you’re not too upset that he has a sexual interest in Dean?”

“Well…” he bit at his lower lip, “I guess I am, yeah. I’m not… I’m not a stepping stone, you know? It used to happen all the time when we were kids. Girls would basically use me to get on Dean’s radar. I was gawky and weird, he was cool and dangerous... And more often than not he’d sleep with them. Not that I blame him, I guess, but it sucked.”

He nodded. “I’ve faced similar situations, I can relate.”

Sam almost laughed, there was no way. “Uh… similar how, Cas?”

“Vessels would open their hearts to the Will of God, but refuse my occupation because they were only interested in my older brothers.”

That… was surprisingly similar. “Uh, yeah, that’s… that seems pretty rough.”

He shrugged, “Jimmy has served me better than anyone else would have. I think it’s worked out in the end.”

Sam pondered the metaphor between vessels and lovers and kinds of consent, and if it was possible to be in an abusive relationship with your vessel. Remembering Gadreel, he was sure it was. Cas brought him out of his thoughts.

“This seems like a bad time, but I feel I’ll get a more genuine answer if I bring it up now,” he sighed and hesitated.

Sam knew where this was going. With the way Castiel had been dancing around Dean the last two weeks, it was easy to put together. “Cas… It’s fine. Whatever it is you’re looking for with Dean, it’s fine.”

There was no anger or hurt in Sam’s voice. This was a good start. Cas explained himself. “I would like to make it explicitly clear to Dean that I harbor deep and long-standing romantic love for him. I don’t anticipate he will return the sentiment, but I would like it to be known regardless.”

Sam’s neutral expression quickly turned to one of near-joy. “Yeah, yes, definitely. Do that. Cas, absolutely, how could that possibly hurt me? Love is… Love is completely different from whatever it is Crowley wants with him, like not even on the same plane of existence. And you’re not - It was always him, you know? I knew that going in. Dean and you, you’ve always…”

Castiel gave a small smile. “Shared a profound bond?” Even he knew it was a cliche now.

“Well, yeah, but I mean… I just feel like you’ve always loved him. There was never any deception there. And you just… you’re so good for him.”

“Thank you, Sam. Your blessing means a lot to me.”

Sam smiled back at him. “I mean it, man. Tell him. Like, right now. Don’t wait.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah!”

“Should… can I take you home first?” He wasn't actually sure.

Sam laughed, “Yeah, I guess you should probably do that. But take me right to my room, I think Dean'll be more, uh... forthcoming if he thinks I'm not home."


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel dropped Sam in his room and went to go talk to Dean after being assured that Sam would be fine.

Sam lied to Cas. He wouldn't be fine, not at all. But he needed to be alone and to work through this on his own. He almost lost it at the sight of his bed, where Crowley had made so many of his fantasies come true. More ready to be angry than depressed, Sam roughly stripped the bed of sheets and put everything that could possibly smell of the demon into the hamper. Quietly, he left to go start laundry, and stayed out of his room for the rest of the night. Instead of sleep, it was beer and the emotionally numbing fluff of binge-watching Young Justice until the sun was high in the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam paid no mind to the time when he gave Castiel the advice to talk to Dean, and Cas paid no mind when he took it. It was well after three in the morning, and Cas was knocking on Dean’s bedroom door.

He opened the door and stood before the angel in nothing but PJ pants. The button was open. Cas tried not to seem like he had noticed.

“What the hell, man? It’s 3:52, what is so damned important? I needs my beauty sleep.”

“I have to speak with you.”

He sighed heavily, “Now?”

“Yes, it has to be now.”

Another sigh. Dean stuck his head out and looked around. “Sammy around?”

“No. Can I come in now please?”

“What, you wanna talk in my room?”

“Yes.”

“W… Okay, sure, just let me get dressed real quick…”

“No, there’s no need.”

“Ohhhhkay, you’re acting pretty weird, Cas, I hope you know that,” he shrugged and stepped away from the door. He took a seat on his bed, legs open and the hole in his pants gaping somewhat. Cas tried not to look like he noticed.

“Yes, I am aware. Thank you,” he shut the door and stood a few feet in front of Dean. He considered sitting, but was afraid he would lose his courage. Already it was waning, and he was quiet for longer than Dean cared to deal with.

“Look, talk or get out. I’m tired.”

Castiel nodded very seriously. “I came to tell you… something that is very important…” he stalled for time while re-fortifying. “Something that has been unsaid for a long time.”

Dean squinted. “What the hell?” he spoke under his breath. “Look, Cas, seriously. Get it out or get you out. If the sun is up before I’m asleep again, payment is comin’ outta your ass.”

Castiel had no idea what that meant, but took it as a sign of displeasure. He steeled himself. “Dean, I want you to know that I love you, and that I have for a number of years.”

He cocked his head a little, “Uh… I love you too, buddy. What’s going on? Are you dying?”

He grunted. Clearly his message was not received as he meant it. “No, Dean, I’m not dying. I don’t… I don’t mean that I love you… I just…”

“Uh, okay, ouch?”

“No, I- what I mean is, I’m in love with you.”

Dean watched Castiel with both eyebrows raised, wheels clearly turning in his mind. “Uh… uhm, okay, uh…” he denied it, “I don’t… I’m not sure you know what that actually means, Cas. Being in-love, that’s like, you know,” he broke into one line of impromptu song “When a maa-aan loves a woooman,”

He narrowed his eyes, “Being in love is like Percy Sledge?”

“I was going more Michael Bolton, but… yeah, you get the idea.”

Another grunt. He rubbed his forehead briefly. “Yes, Dean, I’m familiar with the concept of being in love. Humans didn’t invent it, you know.”

“Yeah, okay, but…”

Castiel cut him off. “I feel a deep romantic and spiritual connection to you. I always want to be with you, and protect you, and when you hurt my heart hurts for you. I think about you more more often than is warranted. I make stupid choices in an effort to keep you safe and happy. I would, and have, and probably will again, die for you or anyone you love. My devotion to my father and loyalty to my brothers have been completely replaced by my devotion and loyalty to you. I fell from grace to be near you, Dean. Remembering your smile has kept me going in the most impossible of situations. I-... ‘Faithfully’ makes me cry, Dean. Journey. And I don’t mean like a single stoic tear, I mean like actually cry. I am in love with you. I don’t expect you to reciprocate, but you have to at least believe me.”

Dean was quiet for many minutes, and Cas waited for anything from him. Dean wanted to crack a joke or change the subject or anything to keep him from dealing with this right now, but he didn’t. He focused. He owed it to Cas to take this to heart.

Castiel finally sat down. He had plenty of patience.

With a heavy, soul-unburdening sigh, he was finally ready to talk. “Yeah… I, uh… I think I’m in love with you too, Cas. I think I have been for a long time.”


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley entered his kingdom with a flourish of rage. “No one, not a single fucking soul enters my chambers until I say otherwise, do you understand me?” he barked at his demonic doorman.

There was a line of petitioners, but he dare not argue with Crowley in this state. “Yes, King.”

He literally snarled, “Don’t call me that. Find another title.” He stormed past the lesser demon and slammed his door behind him.

He poured a glass of scotch, nearly to the brim of the crystal, and downed it so fast his throat felt like fire. It was nothing compared to the rending in his chest. “Fuck!” he shouted into an empty chamber. 

_How could I have been such an idiot? How could I have gotten attached to a fucking gods-damned bloody fucking Winchester?!_

He internally berated himself until the anger turned to guilt and regret.

_Sam’s been so good to me. Better than I deserve, no doubt. That was horrifically callous of me. He didn’t deserve any of it. Why couldn’t I just tell him we had to cool off like a rational person? Ah, right, because I have no self-control._

He rubbed his face and poured another glass of scotch, sipping it this time.

_We flow so perfectly together… and that soul-contract fantasy of his, we’ve barely scratched the surface. There’s so much we’ve left undone. So much not begged for._

He let out a deep sigh and ran his teeth over his lower lip. “I should at least apologize…” he said aloud. “Not to get him back or anything. Just… to patch things up. That’s all. It’s still over,” he was assuring only himself.


	7. Chapter 7

“So where do we go from here?” Dean looked to Cas, relieved and incredibly nervous.

“May I sit with you?”

Dean slid over, making room for Cas to join him on his bed.

He left a few inches of space between them, and gingerly set his hand on Dean’s knee. “Is this okay?”

Dean nodded. He wasn’t actually sure, but he wanted it to be.

They were quiet for a while, both collecting their thoughts. Dean was the first to speak again. “Cas, you know getting involved with me has never gone well for anyone.”

“We’re already involved, Dean. We live together, work together, you eat and sleep in roughly the same physical location that I occupy.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but it’s not… there’s a difference between that and what this could mean.”

“There’s no trouble that being in love with you can get me into that I haven’t already faced.”

Slowly, Dean nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”

“But if this isn’t something you want, please just say so. I’m not expecting-” he was cut off.

“No, Cas,” Dean set his hand on Castiel’s. “I do. I don’t get why, I’ve- you’re not my usual type, you know? But… I do. Really.”

Castiel smiled at the contact, and then at Dean. “Then I guess we’ll figure it out.”

Dean smiled back and nodded. “Yeah. I guess we will.” He yawned involuntarily.

Cas looked at the clock. It was almost 4:30. “You should get back to sleep. I wouldn’t want you taking anything out of my ass.”

Dean chuckled lightly. “What?”

“You said if you weren’t asleep before the sun came up…”

He laughed. “Ah, yeah, right. Well, it was worth the wake up.”

Cas stood up, but Dean held onto his hand.

“Wait, no, will you… I mean,” he adjusted his tone, trying to sound smooth. “You wanna crash here tonight?”

Castiel nodded. “I’d love to stay the rest of the night with you.”

He laid down and scooted all the way against the wall while Castiel stripped out of his overclothes. Dean drank in the rare sight of all that bare skin and welcomed the angel when he crawled into bed. He nuzzled into Castiel’s back, holding him closely. He was asleep in minutes.


	8. Chapter 8

When Dean woke, they’d reversed positions. Castiel was holding him and _fuck_ it felt good.

“Good morning, Dean.”

He gave a happy sigh and replied. “Mornin’, Cas.”

“Would you like me to make breakfast for you?”

Dean shook his head. “No, don’t go anywhere. Just… let’s just be like this for a while.”

Castiel had no qualms about giving Dean what he wanted.

Dean dozed for many minutes more. Eventually, Cas made sure he was wide awake.

Castiel moved his arm. Instead of holding him tightly by the waist, Cas started to gently run his hands over Dean’s bare chest and abdomen.

Dean gave a quiet, tired noise of contentment.

He ran his thumb over one of his nipples. 

Dean sucked air through his teeth and opened his eyes.

Cas did it again, and then a third time.

Dean ground his hips back into Cas, almost by reflex.

“Good morning, Dean,” it was more of a purr this time.

“Heh, yeah it is,” he looked over his shoulder and grinned at the angel.

Castiel slowly dragged his hand down Dean’s chest, eventually tucking his fingers just barely under the waistband of his pants. “Is this okay?” He had to be sure.

Dean was nervous, but he nodded.

He slipped his hand full into Dean’s pants, and carefully took hold of his half-stiff cock. 

With a quiet groan, he asked for more. “Cas, _fuck_ , yes.”

Smiling, Castiel proceeded. He slowly began to stroke Dean until he was rock hard and moving into his hand. To aid his own efforts, Cas kissed Dean’s neck until he found just the spot that made Dean melt, and began a tirade of licking and sucking in that sensitive area.

Dean quietly gasped and panted under Castiel’s attentions. His hand, his mouth, so much of their bare skin pressed together. The intimacy of being with Cas like this was unknitting something deep inside of him.

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel spoke in hushed tones into Dean’s ear. “I love you so much. I want to make you feel good. I want to take away all the pain,”

Tension and stress ebbed away the longer Cas held contact with him. His gasps slowly became more vocal, more surrendered. Dean welcomed the intangible motes of Castiel’s grace that spilled out from his soul in this intimate encounter. 

“Dean?” he nipped at the Winchester’s neck. 

“Mmm, Cas?” he tried to focus on whatever Castiel was about to say, but his mind was foggy from lust and pleasure and whatever that warm, blue feeling was that was surrounding him.

“Dean, I love you, and I want you to come for me.”

“Oh, fuck, Cas. Yes, yes,” he rocked into Cas’s hand.

“That’s good, Dean,” he tightened his grip and moved faster, more roughly. 

Dean groaned loudly.

“I love you, Dean.”

He was becoming desperate, frantic. He’d never had a hand job half this good, and Castiel kept easing up just in time to keep him from getting off.

Castiel toyed with him for a short while, enjoying Dean’s lengthened pleasure, but soon granted mercy. Next time, he didn’t stop or slow.

“Cas, Cas, Cas!” Dean grit his teeth and cried out as hot, slick liquid coated Castiel’s fingers. He shuddered as each wave of his orgasm washed over him, and with it, the warm, blue feeling soaking in.

“Good, Dean,” he urged as the Winchester started to come down. “That’s was beautiful. I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Angel,” he mumbled, half-smiling. He was exhausted and blissful.

Castiel kissed him on the neck again, and gently slid out of bed. He grabbed a nearby towel and cleaned his hand. “I’m going to go make breakfast for you. Rest up. I want to do a lot more of that.” 

Dean’s half-smile went wide. “Bacon?” He was hopeful.

Cas nodded. “And pancakes, not waffles. I know how you like it when the syrup runs off and into the bacon.”

“Awwyeah,” he licked his lips and rolled over, settling into a nap.

Castiel smiled and took a moment to bask in his adoration of Dean Winchester before leaving the room and setting to work.


	9. Chapter 9

“Good morning, Sam.” Castiel was too wrapped in his thoughts of Dean to notice that Sam looked like he hadn’t slept.

“It’s almost afternoon, but yeah. Good morning. Things go well with Dean?” He paused Netflix, grateful for some actual interaction.

“Very. I’m making breakfast for him now. Would you like some?”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

Castiel gathered some things from the fridge and cupboards and began to assemble his recipes.

“So is this like… morning after breakfast?”

“I’m not sure I know what that is.”

Sam nodded, He didn’t know if he wanted to spell it out more explicitly. He didn’t know if he wanted to know. He could really, really use some of that fuck-you-til-everything’s-alright mojo that Cas had right about now. It was all the more painful that he was losing Castiel’s comforts at the same time Crowley decided to tear him up.

Castiel looked up when Sam didn’t respond, and saw how worn down he was. He stopped what he was doing and walked to Sam, standing before him. “Did you sleep?”

Sam shook his head.

“Have you eaten?”

Sam just looked to the collection of beer bottles on the table beside him.

“Are you okay?”

Sam shook his head again.

Castiel sighed, not out of exasperation but sadness. He offered his hand and pulled Sam up. “You’re going to bed now.”

Sam nodded, and finally had the courage to ask. “Are you… Did you and Dean spend the night together?”

“Yes. We are… romantically involved.”

Sam sighed, acceptant.

Castiel took him to his room, made his bed with fresh linens, and coaxed him into it. With a touch to his forehead and a surge of light, Sam was fast asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Several days later, Sam had just finished making lunch for himself when there was a knock at the bunker door. Immediately on guard, he considered calling for Dean but thought better. He strode to the door, blade in hand, and checked out the small peep hole. “Son of a…”

With his knife arm hidden, he cracked the door. “What the hell do you want, Crowley?”

“Sam, lovely, just the bloke I was looking for. Could we maybe, uhm, have a chat?”

“A- a chat? What the fuck do you think you and I could possibly have to talk about?” he didn’t bother concealing his anger. He’d just gone his first solid five hours without thinking about the demonic king and now here he was at the door.

Crowley cleared his throat and linked his hands behind his back. “Well, I thought we could start with…” he hesitated, trying to force the words out of his mouth. “I thought, I mean I think, well I know… I owe you an apology, Moose. I overreacted and said some things I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. Truly.” His eyes travelled Sam’s length. He wanted to kiss him, or fuck him, or take Sam’s obviously concealed blade to his chest. He stayed still.

Sam softened a bit and nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, well, just trying to do the right thing. D’you wanna get out of here and talk about it? We could grab a bite,” he gave a mischievous smirk. He had no self-control. “Maybe get a room?” He should never have come here.

Sam scoffed. “Get a room? Yeah, no, not a chance.”

Crowley frowned. He was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “Are you busy or something?”

“Nope, not busy at all.” He stared at Crowley blankly. He was truly tempted to take him up on his offer and hated himself for it. “Wait, did you think apologizing would fix this? Nooo, good God, no. We’re still done.” He tried to stay firm.

“But I…” he didn’t really have an end to his sentence. He looked dejected.

“Look, honestly, that was the best way our… thing, or whatever, could have ended. No one was physically hurt, we have no blood feud, Dean isn’t trying to kill you. Let’s quit while we’re ahead, okay? We both know it was never going to last.” That’s what he’d been telling himself for days. He had to believe it.

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re right, probably is for the best,” he certainly didn’t feel like it was for the best.

“I do hate you marginally less now, though, since you said you’re sorry. There’s that, I guess.”

Not enough of a consolation. He thought about taking charge, commanding Sam to come with him, calling him Moose, anything to reignite the lust that brought them together in the first place. Instead, simply, “Yeah, there is that...”

They were quiet for a minute.

“So, I’m gonna,” Sam motioned back into the bunker.

“Yeah, right. Just, uh, is Dean around?” Crowley told him to stay strong. This really was for the best. As long as Sam could deny him, he could stave off the inevitable Winchester-induced death.

Sam rolled his eyes. Of course he was still going after his brother. “Yeah, he is. But he’s not interested, Crowley, and I’m not going to enable your destined-to-fail seduction attempts.”

“Please, I wouldn’t ask that of you,” he tried to play it cool. “He’d asked about Juliet and Hellhound wounds last we spoke, I just wanted to pass along some more information to him. Can you get him, please?”

“Can’t. He’s busy.” Sam was irritated.

“Right this moment? Are you sure? Could you check?”

Sam sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He and Cas have barely left his room in, oh, three days? He’s not available.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes, “Are they… I mean, for the same reason we wouldn’t?”

“For the same reason we wouldn’t have, past tense, yeah. I guess you could put it like that. They’re probably doing a lot more talking than we would’ve, though.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I could make you talk quite a bit,” he grinned, resolve wavering yet again.

Sam stifled a reminiscent memory. “Yeah, not happening. He’s busy. You can leave now.”

"Wait, doesn't that make you jealous? I know you and the angel had a thing going."

"Nope. Cas loves him, and neither of us have ever been just a fuck to him. It's completely different."

 _You weren’t just a fuck to me, Sam, that was the entire problem._ He tried to maintain composure. “Very well,” he said with a sigh, not willing or able to admit it. “Tell him to give me a ring, will you?”

“Yep.” Sam closed the door. It may have been premature, but he couldn't stand it anymore. He leaned against the nearby wall and took several minutes to collect himself before going back to his lunch.


	11. Chapter 11

Life returned to some semblance of normal for all four of them, but with a distinct change between Dean and Cas. Within the week, Sam was well enough to start looking for cases again, and Dean had no issue with getting back on the road. It was definitely different, though, as Dean and Castiel flirted incessantly. When they checked into the first motel room of the hunt, they were half-naked and making out on one of the beds before Sam even got back with ice. They barely noticed him enter, and certainly didn't let up.

Sam settled at the table with his laptop, facing away from the pair, and put headphones in. He had no idea how far they went with him right there, not fifteen feet away, and he didn't care to. A couple hours later, after accomplishing significant research, he tentatively pulled his earbuds out and listened. Dean sounded asleep, and taking that as a sign that it was safe for him to turn around, Sam closed the laptop and got ready for bed. He avoided eye contact with Castiel, who was awake and in bed with Dean, and barely spoke to either of them except about the case the next day. 

This pattern continued for most of the short case. On the last night, Sam had a rather [unwelcome dream](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6028843), and when he woke light was already filtering through the heavy curtain of the motel window and his boxers were a mess. When they finally returned to the bunker later that day, Sam went out alone to blow off steam.

 

* * *

 

Crowley became the attentive and dutiful king once again, putting in plenty of overtime to make up for his absence over the last couple of weeks. The long hours and constant stream of work kept him distracted, and allowed the sting and ache to heal. Things were going well for him until one day of endless bad news.

First, he learned that one of his favorite crossroads demons had been using a third party to circumvent the ten-year clause, which was not only skewing their projections, but was also very clearly against the rules he'd established. After demotion and sentencing, he learned that an entire hive of vampires he'd allied with, which was a significant source of new contracts, had been decimated by a hunter cell. 

Then, as icing on the cake, Crowley then began to get reports - first gossip, and then confirmation, that Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel had been spotted in a romantic entanglement. The information itself didn't bother Crowley, and it certainly wasn't news to him, but it did bring big baby Winchester back to mind.

When he finally retired for the day, he was overwhelmed and exhausted. All he wanted was to call Sam, sweep him off to some gorgeous and exotic location, and make love to him until neither of them could remember their own names. He considered other options, once and repeated lovers, but none of them would do. He needed Sam. He had to get him back. A new idea began to take shape in the back of his mind. It was drastic, no doubt, but it might just work.  

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

As Sam slid into the Impala, he realized he had no idea where he wanted to go or what he wanted to do, he just knew he had to get away from Dean and Castiel for a while. He sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before noticing a small envelope on the passenger side of the front bench seat.

Sam picked it up, and noticed that it was addressed to him. Skeptical but curious, he opened it up and read the letter inside. 

"Sam -  
I'm in town for a bit. I'm staying at the Buckshot Inn, room 2. I have a few questions I need help with. Please don't bring Dean, he's sort of overbearing. He's like a dad, you're like a brother. Definitely don't bring Cas.  
-Claire."

Sam examined the note carefully. It seemed like her handwriting, and what she would say. He started the car and headed towards the address she mentioned.

When he got to to the motel, he knocked and the door swung open ominously.

"Claire?" He called out and cautiously stepped inside, already nervous about an ambush. And, sure enough, the door slammed behind him and Crowley appeared in full view.

"Moose," his word choice was deliberate. Sam swallowed hard at the sound. "We need to talk."


	13. Chapter 13

Sam felt his blood run cold, and he was defiant already. "We have _nothing_ to talk about." He averted Crowley's gaze, afraid of what he would feel were he to actually look him in the eyes.

"Sit down, Moose." There was no playfulness or patience in his tone. 

"No." Pure, cold defiance.

With a thought, Crowley willed one of the motel room chairs to slide up behind Sam. " _Sit, Moose_ , I won't ask you again." his voice was more commanding this time.

"Good, then I won't have to tell you to go fuck yourself."

The demon half-frowned and let out a small sigh. "Why do you make me do these things, Moose?" Another thought, and the chair shoved against the back of Sam's thighs. 

He felt invisible hands pushing him down, and holding him seated on the chair. He gave a frustrated grunt, but didn't dignify the action with a response.

"Much better. Now, I know it's difficult for you to hear me through your raging pride, but just... give it an honest, college try, yeah? Except maybe actually succeed, unlike with the whole college thing." Crowley was nervous, and fearful of rejection. It was making him more of an asshole than usual. He summoned the other chair to himself and sat down, crossing his legs and folding his hands at his abdomen. "Moose... I," he sighed. This was more difficult than he'd anticipated.

"You've got about three minutes of me listening, so hurry it up." Still Sam was trying to control the situation.

"I'm sorry. I know I've already said that, but I want to reiterate. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I regret it... deeply," that last work was true, but delivered begrudgingly. "The truth is that I... started to develop... feelings," he spoke with a sneer. He hated that word, that concept. "I'm sure had you not gotten me helplessly hooked on your blood, I would never have been susceptible to such things. And I'm certainly not with anyone else. So it's your fault, really."

Sam gave a look of disbelief. "You have a crush on me, the guy you've been fucking non-stop for a month, and that's so unheard of and uncomfortable for you that you... what, try to emotionally stab me in the face?" he was incredulous now. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Plenty," Crowley answered dryly. "But it's not a crush, Moose. It was a crush long ago, on both of you denim-wrapped nightmares. I can deal with crushes. What I was... experiencing," he carefully sidestepped the dreaded F word, "was more than that."

"More... than a crush..." Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to detect the lie and finding none. "Okay... fine. So, what, you... love me?" his question was paired with a scoff, and total disbelief. "Yeah, forgive me if I doubt you're capable."

That stung, quite a bit more than it may have had a right to. Crowley was angry, and he didn't hide it. "Yeah, well, I _wasn't_ before your **goddamned meddling** , Samuel. But your fucking _humanity_ did something to me. Something I've never healed from. And now I'm in love, and I can't stop thinking about you, or wanting you, or... or... **Damn it, Moose** ," he stood abruptly, kicking the chair away from himself. He paced the room, running a hand over his face and trying to calm himself. In his distraction, the mental magic pinning Sam let up.

Sam stayed where he was and watched the demon closely. This didn't seem like a ruse, and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"I hate it, okay? It terrifies me, in no small part because, with few exceptions, everyone who has ever loved you is dead. And frankly, love isn't a weakness I can afford to have, regardless of the Winchester curse. So I..." A heavy, frustrated sigh. "I pushed you away because I thought... I mean, I figured if you were gone, it would go away! I never meant any of that shite, about seeing other people, let alone your own brother. I woudn't... thanks to the state _you_ put me in, I doubt I'm even capable."

"It doesn't work that way," Sam interjected. He knew. He'd tried it.

"Yes, I'm bloody finding that out, thank you. I've never... Even as a human, I've never been in love before, so you'll forgive me if I have a bit of trial and error." He was somewhere between seething and ready to break down. He stopped and faced away from Sam desperately trying to gain control of himself. He hated feeling so much.

Sam gave a pause, rolling all the information around in his mind before speaking again. "You're right. I will forgive you. I don't condone any of the shit you've pulled, but I can forgive you. It's one of my specialties, I'm sure you've noticed." 

The room was quiet for several minutes, but Sam's words lowered the tension considerably. He could see Crowley's shoulders drop, relaxing. But he stayed facing the wall opposite Sam. Eventually, he stood up and went to him, slipping a hand on the demon's shoulder.

Crowley turned rather suddenly, facing Sam and, rising to his tiptoes, grabbing his jaw and pulling him into a kiss. 

Sam gave in fully, returning the kiss as if he'd been starving all these weeks they were apart. His arms wrapped around Crowley's waist, pulling him close. They'd had their first fight, and Sam was ready to move past it. Granted, it was drastically worse than any fight he'd had with an ordinary partner... but he was dating the new Devil. Things were bound to be more brutal and intense. It was something he felt he could learn to navigate.


End file.
